Forgotten Footsteps
by AtLoLevad
Summary: Gibbs and Tony have a conversation. Post #250, but doesn't really have to do with that.


**A/N: Okay, this is kind of a record, but I saw keeppushingthethighmaster's random quote on Tumblr (it's the quote that's in italics in the story) and this popped right into my head. It's a little sad, hopefully in character, and the end kind of got away from me. **

**But I hope you like it and wow, writing these two is hard =)**

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Gibbs' ears perked up when he heard his front door open and close, but he didn't pause in his carving.

Gibbs followed the sound of the footsteps through his hallway, into the kitchen, and then back down the hallway. By the time the footsteps got to the basement steps, he knew exactly who it was.

"What's a matter, DiNozzo?" he asked, keeping his gaze trained on the tools in front of him.

"Damn," Tony cursed, "You're good at that."

The younger man popped the top off of his pilfered beer and sat down on one of the sawhorses.

"Practice, DiNozzo," Gibbs muttered under his breath, measuring the piece of wood for a second time.

Tony made a noise of agreement – or acknowledgement, Gibbs couldn't really tell.

For several minutes the only sound in the basement was Tony's beer being swallowed and the scratching of pencil on wood.

Suddenly, Tony's voice broke the peaceful silence, "_Don't you ever hear someone at your door, or walking down the stairs to your basement, and for just a second you can't breathe because you think it's Ziva?"_

Gibbs' hand stilled, pencil falling out of his loosened grasp. Damnit, he did not want to have this conversation.

Tony sighed, and out of the corner of his eye, Gibbs could see that he was staring into the half empty beer bottle.

"Cause that happens to me all the time," Tony said finally, "I hear the morning paper getting thrown against my door, I think she's coming to get me for a crime scene. I hear brakes squealing on the street, I instinctively grip my steering wheel tighter, thinking she's driving out there. Elevator dings at work? I'm expecting her to come walking into the pen, holding lunch or coffee or one of those nasty scowls she gets when public transpo is late."

Gibbs sighed and set the ruler down. He'd be lying if he said he didn't have similar thoughts.

Each of his 'kids' had a distinct way of walking. And he'd learned all of them over the course of a decade.

Abby, with her boots and over caffeinated body, was loud. Thumping around overhead, she often called out to Gibbs when she walked in.

Tim, in the beginning had been tentative. Each step weighed carefully, as if one wrong move would get him kicked off the team. In recent years, his footfalls had become more confident, striding around the first floor of Gibbs' place with a purpose.

Tony, usually walking into the house for a reason would come straight to the basement, no detours around the house. Occasionally, he'd bump into a table, stub his toe and curse. The smell of pizza or some kind of take-out food usually accompanied Tony's footsteps.

But, Ziva. Ziva was a whole different story. You couldn't hear her unless you were listening for her. She even managed to get the door opened and closed without creaking or slamming. Her footsteps were inaudible until she hit the stairs, and even then she was abnormally quiet. But the thing about Ziva, if she wanted you to hear her, you would.

And in the months since May, Gibbs had heard all different kinds of footsteps on the first floor of his house. But he'd never heard hers.

And that caused him more pain than he was willing to admit.

"Cause sometimes I'll hear somebody screw up an idiom, or not use contractions and I'll think she's talking to me," Tony was still talking, "Hey, Boss? You listening?"

Gibbs grunted, "I hear ya, DiNozzo."

Tony blew out a frustrated breath of air and knocked back another gulp of beer, "I just wish she'd come through the damn door."

"So do I," Gibbs muttered under his breath, shaking his head as he thought about how his team –his family- had been fractured.

Tony's eyes widened. He hadn't heard Gibbs say anything about Ziva's absence, at all.

The man was famously closed off, and in the months since Ziva's return to Israel, things had been…weird. Different weird, and not a good weird.

Tony and Tim had spent many a night discussing the change in their Boss, their fearless leader, but neither man could come up with a good way to describe the change that had happened.

But looking at Gibbs now, after everything that had happened with Senior, Tony thought he might have a better understanding.

Gibbs was only really closed off about one topic. Shannon and Kelly.

And sure, they'd all found out about Gibbs' family, but none of them really _knew_ anything about them.

"Boss," Tony said after a moment's hesitation, "you really miss her, right?"

Gibbs looked up from the finger of bourbon he'd poured, "What kinda stupid question is that, DiNozzo?"

Tony shrugged, "Well, you never really talk about it."

Gibbs matched Tony's shrug, "What's there to talk about? She wanted to leave, she left."

"But…are you mad at her?" Tony leaned his elbows onto his thighs. He knew he might be hitting dangerous territory here, but there was a force that just couldn't shut him up.

Gibbs gave him a sort of stink-eye, "Why would I be mad at her? I only want her to be happy."

Tony chewed on the inside of his mouth, "Well, yeah, but have you heard from her? I know she talked to McGee and Abs."

Gibbs grunted, thinking back to the phone call he'd had with his Ziver in October. He hadn't really heard from her since then.

Tony took the grunt to mean that he had heard from her.

"I think she's happy," Tony said.

"That's all I want," Gibbs lifted one shoulder and threw back the rest of his alcohol.

"But, you don't want her home like the rest of us?" Tony asked carefully. He could see Gibbs shutting off, could see that their stoic leader was getting annoyed.

"What the hell do ya want me to say, DiNozzo? That every time the damn door opens I hope it's her? That I lost one daughter and now I've lost another?" Gibbs exploded, startling Tony.

"I…no…I'm not sure. I wasn't trying to…" the senior field agent stuttered for words, but none came. And yet, despite the fact that he'd just been yelled at, Tony couldn't help but feel a small bit of happiness. Gibbs was missing her just as much as the rest of them.

"Then you shouldn't have asked, Tony," Gibbs' voice was calmer this time, sad and resigned.

Tony didn't know what to say. So he finished off the last of his beer.

"You think she'll come if my dad sends her a wedding invite?" Tony said several excruciating minutes of silence later.

Gibbs was focused again on the project in front of him.

"I don't think it would hurt to try," was the short response.

Tony nodded, getting up from the sawhorse, "I think I'll try."

Gibbs nodded, listening as Tony's footsteps thumped up the stairs and out of the house.

The father of five rocked back on his heels, listening.

He'd forgotten the way Kelly's footsteps sounded running around the house.

Maybe they were loud, like Abby.

Shy, but determined, like Tim.

A little clumsy, but competent, like Tony.

Silent, until she wanted to be heard, like Ziva.

"I miss you girls," Gibbs sighed. The empty house offering no response.

No silent footsteps came, even though Gibbs listened for them.


End file.
